Dead Man's Minute
by Darkfire Galaxy
Summary: Set in the final days of the Pendulum Wars. It's all or nothing for the COG as they attempt to launch the Hammer of Dawn Satellites. But the UIR aren't going to make it easy for them. But while both sides fight it out, a new threat presents itself.
1. Chapter 1

Gears of War

Dead Man's Minute

Chapter 1

Lieutenant Colonel Victor Hoffman was tired. In fact, he was beyond tired, and it had nothing to do with the fact the sun was setting. Why he'd ever let Margaret talk him into volunteering for this even though he wasn't supposed to return to mission-eligible status for another three months was beyond him, but it seemed she just went weak at the knees whenever she saw him in his uniform. Not that the other gears cared. They saw it as a sign of strength that he was back on duty. He'd been injured in a skirmish with a UIR patrol only six months after Operation Leveller and was given medical leave for a year. The round had passed clean through his shin to the point that the medic thought he'd had to lose his leg. Luckily he kept it but was supposed to be invalided out, so for him to be back in action was a definite morale booster for them, even if it was only on what amounted to a minor errand in a much bigger operation. All the gears were either standing at ease on the ready line waiting for instruction or doing push-ups with their Lancers mounted on their backs.

As Hoffman looked over them and applauded their dedication silently, he heard the rotors of a king raven as it banked round and set down off to his left. He looked over to see a detachment of Onyx Guard jumping out. Leaving his men, he walked over and approached the new arrivals, trying to bury his trepidation. Their being assigned to his squad meant either the mission just got escalated or command didn't trust his capabilities due to his injury. The joke was on them if that was the case. He'd never felt stronger in the knowledge that their actions were about to end the Pendulum Wars.

"Where's your commanding officer, trooper?" he asked one of the Onyx Guard as they all turned on seeing him arrive.

"You're Lieutenant Colonel Hoffman, I presume?" the soldier saluted him. "Colonel Loomis is on the raven. He's just berating the pilot on his flying."

"Yeah, that sounds like Ezra." Hoffman muttered. He stood and waited, hearing raised voices over the sound of the Onyx Guard checking their kit. Eventually, the man he was waiting for climbed out and walked over to him.

"Victor, good to see you!" Loomis said, saluting.

"What's your business here, Ezra?" Hoffman asked as he returned the gesture. "They usually reserve the Onyx guard for the main phase of the operation."

"Others are handling that, Victor. We'll be assisting you in the Lethia Imulsion facility with your objective while securing classified combat intel." Loomis told him.

'_It's always nice when Dalyell tells me everything_.' Hoffman thought sarcastically.

"Okay then, Ezra. If you and yours go stand by the ready line where my gears are about to fall in, I'll tell my gears not to get in your way." Loomis nodded in agreement and stood to attention off to the side. The other Onyx Guard moved over and fell in with him. The other gears all moved over and fell in at Hoffman's instruction. "Men, today, the COG seals the fate of every single Indie within Gorasnaya and the world over!" Hoffman declared, hating how the speech made him sound like a politician. "Today, we officially launch the Hammer of Dawn satellites into space, to begin orbital bombardment. Let's see how long these Indies can hold out while we paint their green armour red from right over their heads!" It was met with cheers and applause along with other gears slapping each other on the backs. "Now, some of you may have noticed that we have the Onyx guard with us." Hoffman held up his hand, calling for silence. "They will be assisting us with our objective while completing one of their own. Their objective is classified. Anyone I hear trying to probe for information will be on a charge on the spot! Am I clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Every gear saluted in unison.

"We will load up onto the packhorses and convoy to the Lethia Imulsion facility just south of here. From there, we will find and activate several key valves to provide the launch sites with fuel. We are going in because we have actionable intel that the Indies are going to try and take the facility offline so as to disable us. Now, they've been infiltrating Tyrus from the Vasgar border so it's likely they only brought a small force. Still, I'm not keen to take anything of granted, so if anyone has anything to bring to the table then now is the time. We will protect that facility at all costs! We are 26 RTI! We are the unvanquished!" The gears all cheered, but Hoffman could tell the Onyx were rolling their eyes inside their helmets. Not wanting to waste any more time, he gave the signal to the gears to load up. As soon as they were all on board, Hoffman joined them, noticing the Onyx Guard heading to a packhorse that was just arriving. It must have been called in specifically for them.

'_Too fat a pay check to sit with the rest of us anymore, Ezra_?' Hoffman thought bitterly to himself as the pack's rear door closed. '_You always _did _think your ass was made of gold_.'

**Author's Note: Okay, so that's the first chapter. The rest of them are much longer, I promise. Please feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The packhorses pulled up outside the facility gates. Hoffman could already hear the gunfire as they disembarked. As they moved on the entrance, they could see the security guards engaging using their snub pistols, but standing little chance against Markza carbines and sniper rifles. It seemed to be all they'd brought apart from a few captured COG snub pistols. Hoffman presumed it was to reduce the risk of hitting anything crucial. The gears engaged swiftly, firing in short bursts to maximise their range and counteract the high spread on their weapons. The three Indies they could see had backed the facility's security team against the wall and were advancing relentlessly, but were completely caught off guard as the gears and Hoffman unleashed a hail of gunfire from their Lancers. In seconds, the three soldiers fell, but not before the security team had also hit the floor.

Hoffman scanned their security team quickly and found one that was still alive as Loomis and the Onyx jogged over. He sat the man up gently and saw blood pouring from his chest. He signalled the medic over to treat the man now, so that they might be able to save his life.

"Are you strong enough to talk?" he asked.

"They came out of nowhere." Hoffman scanned the guard for a name tag and found one saying 'Connor'.

"Did you see what size force they brought?" Hoffman asked.

"There's about sixteen greens and a blue." Connor said before letting out a scream as a medic pressed a rag soaked with antiseptic on the wound.

"_26, this is Control. We've intercepted an enemy transmission which we're still translating, but the name 'Paduk' is getting flagged up a lot. A search of our database has highlighted Garron Paduk, a major in the UIR. It's possible we have an HVT on site_."

"I guess the Indies finally figured out that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." Hoffman muttered before turning back to Connor. "Okay, son. Rest easy. We'll activate the valves and protect this place."

"Wait." Connor gasped. "They've got some kind of Imulsion based ordinance. I don't know what it is, but it detonated one of our security dogs and the handler. The rest ran away shortly afterwards."

"Dogs are loyal. They'll be back once the fighting dies down." Hoffman reasoned. "Even if they don't, we'll round them up once we've launched the satellites."

"We're wasting time here, Victor. We need to press on. Let the medics handle it." Loomis stood over Hoffman, glaring down at him disapprovingly.

"God dammit, Ezra; you've really changed." Hoffman muttered as he got up. "Okay, we're splitting into groups of Alpha, Bravo and Charlie. We'll be ones, twos and threes. Team A will find the first valve and take out any Indies along the way. Team B will do the same with the second valve and team C will do the same with the third. Onyx, you can go wherever you damn well please from this point. Once you've completed your objective, I need you to get to the main control room and hit the button by at least 01:30 hours. If I don't hear anything on my radio, I'll take it for granted that everything is alright and expect that button pressed on time. We need to launch those satellites at sunrise, so the fuel needs sufficient time to travel. Is everyone clear?"

"Yes, sir!" every gear in 26 RTI said in unison.

"I'm leading Team A, Keys, you're taking Team B and Sorvad, you can take Team C. Let's move out." Hoffman walked towards a door at the end of the path beyond a metal catwalk. He tried it and found it unlocked. "Control, Alpha team is going interior to find the first valve."

"_Roger that, colonel_." Hoffman knew the voice of the young lady he was talking to. Lieutenant Anya Stroud was doing an amazing job in the control office and had really bounded back since the death of her mother Helena at Aspho Fields.

Hoffman readied his Lancer, a small detachment of five gears backing him up. He went to the pressure door and opened it, awaiting signs of an Indie attack. None came, so he relaxed enough to send the gears in.

"Portman, it's on you." One of the gears nodded and stepped through the doorway, motioning to another that Hoffman knew as Crowe to back him up.

"Clear right." Portman reported as he checked each angle of the well-lit room.

"Clear left." Crowe scanned his half of the room and visibly wound down. "There's nothing in here."

"_26, this is control. If you can access the terminal in that room, Bruce can call up a map to find the valves and I can band it to the tac-com of every gear in the facility_."

"Good call, Anya." Hoffman nodded as the robot de-cloaked next to him with a series of bleeps and clicks. "Wierzbowski, you're the computer nerd here."

"Yes, sir." The gear at the back shouldered through the group and moved over to the terminal, grabbing one of the vacant seats in front of it. In seconds he'd guessed a passcode and made it into the mainframe. "Okay, I've got cameras, lights... Oh, here's the floor plans. I'm pulling them up now."

"Bruce, download it." Hoffman ordered.

"_He's already streaming it_." Anya reported. In seconds, Hoffman's tac-com beeped and the valve locations appeared, along with their active troop positions.

'_Thank you, Adam Fenix_.' Hoffman thought to himself. The tac-com was one of Adam's first inventions for the COG military and Hoffman's had saved his life more times than he cared to admit.

"Sir, I've got something weird on the camera feed." Wierzbowski reported. He was staring at the image of a dog wearing a chain-link collar, its eyes glowing in the moonlight and a puddle of drool shining on the floor.

"It's one of the runaway dogs." Hoffman shrugged. "How is that weird?"

"Really look at it, sir." Wierzbowski said, pointing to the image. "Its eyes look hollow and it looks like there's some sort of smoke or steam coming out of them."

"It's a black and white image." Hoffman rolled his eyes. "Its eyes aren't hollow they shine because the moon reflects off them. They don't have smoke coming out of them either. Its breath is showing up as a cloud because of the chill tonight. It's hard to see because of the grainy picture." Hoffman suppressed a sigh. Wierzbowski was at an age that Hoffman felt was far too young to be a gear. He'd joined the Military Academy of Tyrus as soon as he was old enough, but they'd lowered the age limit since his day. This was the problem with having younger gears. It was true that they had a more active imagination, but sometimes it was _too_ active. "Bruce, sent the feeds back to control too. They can keep us informed of any Indie presence they see."

"_Roger that, sir_." Anya said. "_I can see the data coming in now_."

"Let's get moving, Gears." Hoffman ordered. "Let's go and make history." Hoffman turned and left the room. With one last look at the image, Wierzbowski got up and followed him and the other gears out of the room. Had they stayed only minutes longer, they would have seen a blinding flash that enveloped the dog on the screen. The feed from the camera became nothing more than a sheet of static.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hoffman let out a sigh as he rounded another corner, following his tac-com's map to the first valve. Suddenly, he jumped a mile as a metallic ringing sounded from behind him. One of the gears had scraped their Lancer's bladed bayonet against something.

"Jesus Christ, Dietrich! You should wear a goddamn bell for all the good you are at stealth." he snapped.

"Sorry, sir." Dietrich muttered sheepishly. He quickly unclipped the bayonet from his Lancer and secured the handle in his belt loop. "I'll put it back when we're out in the open."

"Very wise." Hoffman muttered, nodding quickly before turning back to what he'd been doing.

"_Colonel, be advised, I'm seeing runaway guard dogs on the cameras, but the feeds are going off one by one. It's possible that either the weather has turned bad or that the UIR brought some sort of anti-surveillance tech with them_."

"Team B, where are you at right now?" Hoffman asked, lifting a hand to his earpiece.

"_Sir, we're exterior and baring down on the second valve now_." Keys reported. "_Be advised, we've already put down two Indies, but they took out three of my guys before I even saw them. I think they've been talking lessons from the Pesangas_."

"Copy that, Keys." Hoffman acknowledged. "What's the weather like out there?"

"_I'm... I'm sorry, sir_?" Keys was clearly confused.

"We re-routed camera feeds to Lieutenant Stroud at Control, but now something keeps taking the feeds offline." Hoffman told him. "Is there a chance it's the weather out there?"

"_No, sir. There's not a cloud in the sky_." Hoffman heard Keys' shoulder pads rattle as he shrugged.

"Well, keep me updated." Hoffman ordered. "The last thing I need is troops outside if we get razorhail. Save that horrific end for the Indies."

"_Wilco, Colonel. Keys out_." Keys hung up as Hoffman opened the door to a side room. There, the icon on his map lit up to show that his prize was in sight.

"There's the valve. Now, who thinks they're stronger than an old colonel with a leg injury?" Hoffman looked to each of his gears in turn. Crowe stepped forward and walked over to the valve. He'd always been especially strong even for a gear. Strength training was important in the COG so that the Lancer's recoil didn't dislocate a shoulder, but Crowe definitely took it several steps further. Even for him, the valve was a struggle to turn. The facility had been mostly evacuated around six months ago and Hoffman guessed that meant the valve wheel had probably seized. If the threads had rusted, the thing would be nigh-on impossible to move. Regardless, Crowe managed it after only a few seconds of struggling. Instantly, they all heard the sound of refined Imulsion being pumped as the valve opened.

"Nice one, Crowe!" Wierzbowski cheered.

"Control, this is colonel Hoffman. The first valve is open."

"_Well done, Colonel. Confirmed: I'm seeing Valve One open now. Keys and his team should be just about to... That's two! Okay, it's all up to Sorvad and his team now_." Hoffman was about to respond when Sorvad's voice cut in over his earpiece.

"_This is Sorvad! We need reinforcements! We've got contacts, but they're not Indies! They're_-" Sorvad was cut off as a resounding sound like a small explosion resonated over Hoffman's radio.

"Sorvad, do you copy?" Hoffman asked, tapping his earpiece to check it hadn't malfunctioned. "Keys, get your ass to Sorvad's location and find out just what the hell is going on."

"_Wilco, sir_." Keys said. Hoffman heard him break into a run as he cut the connection.

"Control, what's the status of Team C's IFF tags?" Hoffman asked, changing channel.

"_Team C IFF tags are all offline_." Anya reported over the comm. "_Quite suddenly, I might add_."

"Team A, on me!" Hoffman ordered as he moved towards the front door. "We're moving to assist."

"I'll get the door for you, sir." One of the gears moved over and pulled the door open to let everyone out.

"_Colonel, this is Keys. We've got multiple contacts, all round and closing_."

"Team B, confirm contact." Hoffman ordered as his team made it through the control room and went to the front door. "What are you seeing?"

"_Sir, it's not the Indies_!" Keys reported. "_They're glowing..._" Keys was about to say more but stopped at the sound of an explosion nearby. "_Frost! Sir, an explosion just took Frost out! These things are living ordinance! I've got multiple KIA and wounded_!" Keys was suddenly cut off at the sound of another explosion. Once again, Hoffman's radio became a sea of crackling static bursts that wavered intermittently.

"_Team B's IFF tags are offline as well_." Anya confirmed what Hoffman already knew. "_How very ominous_." Hoffman decided he'd had enough. He shoved his way through the front door and into the cool night air, keeping his head on a swivel and staying alert for anything.

"Control, what was Team B's last known position?" Hoffman asked.

"_Head left up the lane to the security booth and take another left by the Imulsion pipelines_." Anya instructed. "_You should have eyes-on almost immediately_." Hoffman took off at a stunted run. His leg injury slowed him down some and the other gears were easily able to keep up with him, but he didn't care. _Someone_ had to still be alive.

One look sent Hoffman's hopes crashing. Keys and his squad were all clearly fragged. Blood mixed with Imulsion in luminescent puddles, the yellow glow seeming to actively devour the blood and viscera on the grass. Hoffman was watching, captivated by the light's movement. He would have stared for hours had it not been for Wierzbowski.

"We've got Indies up high!" Hoffman's gaze snapped up to a high pipeline. Two men in bulky green armour were standing on the pipe, silhouetted by the moon. Hoffman couldn't make them out too well, but he could definitely make out the glints of their scopes.

"Take cover!" he ordered, throwing himself down. He reached round behind him and grabbed his Longshot from where it was mounted to his back. They had the high ground but they were under six-hundred yards away so he didn't need elevation. There was no breeze, just a chill in the air. That meant he didn't have to account for the wind speeds. Bullet drop was the only factor. He'd just have to take a first shot and base his next one off the results of that.

Just as he was going over the maths, both the Indies on the pipeline opened fire. One of them missed, but the other one managed to nail a gear through the eye piece in his helmet. Blood poured from the wound as he dropped to the ground with a shriek. Hoffman wasted no more time in firing. As soon as he pulled the trigger, he knew it wasn't going to be a headshot. But he knew as soon as one of the Indies doubled over, dropped his rifle and toppled off the back of the pipe clutching himself between the legs that the UIR's future population had just taken a dip.

"Hell of a shot, sir!" Hoffman knew that Crowe was grinning behind his helmet as Dietrich re-fitted his bayonet. As he reloaded his rifle, he could hear Loomis over his radio.

"_This is colonel Loomis to all friendly forces, we have a positive visual on the HVT. He's heading towards one of the side alleys with a pack of wild Indies_."

"Copy that, Ezra. We'll get onto him in a minute." Hoffman slammed the bolt of his rifle back into place and fired again. This time, the round struck the Indie in the chest with enough force to throw him to the ground. "Move up!" he ordered. Wierzbowski and Dietrich pushed up and located the two fallen Indies. Two gunshots from snub pistols indicated that the present danger had passed. Hoffman moved over to check the other gear who'd been hit, only to find him still. He shook his head and let out a breath. Suddenly, he looked up at Wierzbowski's voice in the distance.

"Is that one of the guard dogs? Damn, it must have been rolling in Imulsion or something. The boy's glowing!"

"For god's sake, Wierzbowski, bring it over here so we can get it secured!" Hoffman called over to him as he took the gear's COG tag from around his neck and a pendant from the royal church of Tyrus came away with it. Recognising it instantly, Hoffman knelt to say something vaguely bible-like over the body. Suddenly, there was an ear-splitting bang from off to his left. He looked over to see the aftermath of a bright yellow flash. It was like it was raining Imulsion over the area where Wierzbowski and Crowe had been standing.

"Wierzbowski!" Dietrich screamed out in pure panic. Hoffman remembered that they'd enlisted together and helped each other survive the war so far. This was going to get ugly now that Dietrich was out to settle a vendetta.

"_Gears, sound off_!" Anya ordered from Control.

"Wierzbowski and Crowe are down!" Hoffman was already running over to where they'd been. "It looks like that weird ordinance the Indies brought got them. One of the snipers must have been rigged!"

'_That dog probably ran off again_.' he thought bitterly. '_These damn Indies just can't keep their noses out of anything_!' Hoffman reached the bodies and saw that there was very little left to see. Wierzbowski and Crowe were completely gone. Dietrich sank to his knees. Hoffman could see the will to fight slipping away from him. Suddenly, a low growl made him look up. The dog was standing there with its teeth bared and yellow-tinted drool dripping to the floor. Its eyes weren't hollow as they'd appeared on the camera, but they definitely looked it at a distance. They burned with a harsh yellow light, a strange mist like Imulsion vapour seeming to pour from them. Wierzbowski had been right. The camera images had been more accurate than he'd given them credit for. He'd also been right about the fact that the dog had clearly rolled in Imulsion. Its entire coat seemed to intermittently flash with a soft yellow glow.

"Come here, boy." Hoffman snapped his fingers and signalled by his side. The dog bared its teeth and went into an aggressive stance, and he found himself wishing that Sergeant Mataki were there. Those farmers from Galangi were always great with animals. Suddenly, something else caught his eye. Another yellow glow had illuminated part of a hedgerow off to the right. As Hoffman watched, more pairs of glowing eyes lit up along the hedgerow and various bushes. Dietrich had also looked up and drew his weapon to get ready.

"I think we've found the runaways, sir." he muttered.

**Author's Note: Sorry for the wait on this one. I've had a lot going on lately I've finished the story so it's just a matter of uploading the rest of the chapters. Hope you enjoy. **


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Hoffman tried to stay relaxed. He tried not to panic. He tried to answer the question he always asked himself in situations involving animals. WWMD: What Would Mataki Do? Honestly, he couldn't even imagine what she'd do. The first step would be figuring out why they were acting aggressive. There were many easy solutions there. They were unfamiliar with Gears. The fighting had probably confused them. With no security staff to guide them and give them orders, they were probably just targeting anyone.

"Dietrich, don't move a muscle." Hoffman ordered. "If they attack, try shooting only as a scare tactic. If they get in close, use your bayonet to deter them only. For the love of God, do not try to kill them if you can avoid it." That probably wasn't what Mataki would have done. She'd probably have shot them all, gutted them and lined her uniform with their fur, only _then_ pausing to mourn afterwards.

"Copy that, sir." Dietrich checked his bayonet before taking aim again.

"Okay, now let's back off _slowly_." Hoffman took a cautious step back. The split second he did, the dog let out a growl and charged. Hoffman fired a couple of rounds, hoping the noise would deter it, but it didn't break stride. That was when Dietrich blew past him with his bayonet ready. He swung as hard and fast as he could, completely disregarding orders. The resulting explosion was enough to take Hoffman clean off his feet. He landed in a heap, but recovered quickly and sat up to look. There was nothing left where Dietrich had been.

"Control, the Indies didn't bring any ordinance!" Hoffman reported as the pieces started to fit together. "They turned the guard dogs _into_ ordinance!

"_Come again, colonel_?" Anya was clearly confused.

"They've turned the guard dogs into Imulsion bombs!" Hoffman spat the words with revulsion. "They're what's been fragging my entire squad!"

"_That's barbaric, even for them_!"

'_Anya always was an animal lover_.' Hoffman felt guilty that she had to know about the true measure of the UIR's brutality.

"Luckily, they're easy to see." Hoffman informed her. "They're glowing in the dark. I think they've been directly exposed to the Imulsion, like they've been force-fed it or something."

"_I'll notify Colonel Loomis and the Onyx Guard that we have lambent guard dogs then_." Anya said. Hoffman heard a click as she changed channels. Suddenly, gunfire from his left swung his attention away from the many pairs of eyes watching him from the foliage. It wasn't COG gunfire. Those were UIR Markzas. Seconds later, Hoffman could hardly believe his eyes as three Indies in green armour backed up past him, firing at something behind a wall that hadn't come into view yet.

Pulling back behind them, clearly the most reluctant to run from a fight, was another Indie in metallic blue armour. He too had a Markza in the carbine configuration, but had a weapon strapped to his back that Hoffman had seen before in conflicts but didn't know the name of. All he knew was that it was some type of grenade launcher. Hoffman raised his rifle ready to fire. Suddenly, the last thing he could have expected happened. A glowing fox charged at them, the frantic Markza fire missing it completely, and sunk its teeth into an Indie's upper thigh. Another one reached for his pistol, which Hoffman realised was a captured COG snub and fired. The explosion was enough to frag the Indie who'd been bitten as well as the other two around him. It wasn't just the dogs that were taking out anything and everything, it was the local wildlife. The Indies hadn't caused the guard dogs to explode, or else they wouldn't be being attacked by them!

Suddenly, the Indie in the blue armour turned as another lambent creature, a squirrel of all things, jumped out of the hedgerow and went for his throat. For reasons even Hoffman didn't quite understand, he lifted his Lancer and fired. The shot was powerful enough to send the now headless body flying backwards before it detonated. Even though the detonation was smaller, it was still enough to throw the blue Indie off balance. A shower of sparks flew from his helmet as one of the lenses cracked. He ripped it off and flung it down before turning around to Hoffman.

"Why would you do that, COG?" he asked as Hoffman jogged over. It was good that the Indie spoke Tyran so that there was no language barrier, but there really was no good answer to that question.

"As bad as you are, I guess they're worse." Hoffman shrugged. More and more lambent animals were emerging from the tree lines around the facility and coming into view. "Want to hear something funny? For a moment there, I thought you Indies did this. I thought you turned the facility's guard dogs into living bombs." The Indie burst out laughing and scratched at the burned side of his face in an almost bashful manner.

"Don't make me laugh, COG." he smirked. "If I were doing something like this, I would have strapped the bombs to Tyran POWs and dropped them from our aircraft."

"Well, you'll get a chance if we make it out of this alive." Hoffman said as he raised his weapon. The Indie went to reload and found he had no spare magazines. He slung his Markza and grabbed the grenade launcher from his back.

"One of our best weapons." He said as he noticed Hoffman looking. "The Booshka was inspired by your COG Longspear grenade launchers. It's a hand held version."

"Wow, you Indies are _so_ original." Hoffman said drily.

"Save the sarcasm for later, COG." The Indie raised his Booshka as the glowing animals started to gather. Hoffman could tell they were preparing to attack. "Back to back!" Neither of them thought about it. For that precious few minutes, they weren't enemies. They certainly weren't allies, but they were two soldiers from different factions who were simply trying to survive.

"Do you ever get lambent animals when you drill for Imulsion in Gorasnaya?" Hoffman fired a strafing volley into the hedgerow, trying to aim for the glowing sets of eyes. The high spread and recoil on his weapon meant it was very difficult to aim properly with, but there were still several yellow explosions from inside the hedge.

"'Lambent'? I'm not familiar with that word. What does it mean?" The Indie was having much better luck with the Booshka. Each blast from it was taking out multiple at once.

"It means they glow in the dark." Hoffman told him as he slammed a new clip into his gun.

"Ah, _Lumiozzi_. No, I've never seen any. But then our rigs are mostly at sea. If anything has turned like this, we haven't seen it yet." As hard as they fought, the problem only seemed to be getting worse. More and more of them were pouring out of the trees, the facility and they even seemed to be coming out of the Imulsion pits under the drills. Each explosion at least chewed up the ground and splattered them both with Imulsion. Suddenly, Hoffman heard the Indie curse in Gorasni.

"How many rounds have you got?" Hoffman called to him over the noise.

"I'm out!" he replied. Hoffman jumped forwards, pulling into a roll. He grabbed the Markza ammo clips from the belt of one of the dead Indies and threw them at the other man's feet.

"These'll do better with you than they will with him." Hoffman said, whirling round and blowing away a raccoon that tried to jump him. Suddenly, something to his right caught his eye. There was a red wheel nestled into an alcove mounted to a pipeline. That was it. That was the final valve that the rest of his squad had been fragged trying to reach.

"Turn it!" The Indie had spotted what he was looking at. "I will make sure you don't die."

"Why should I trust your word on that?" Hoffman asked, eyeing him dubiously while firing at the lambent animals.

"You saved my life. I owe you this if nothing else." The Indie kept firing, refusing to let up. "This is the only time I shall ever assist you though, COG. Once you have turned that valve and these things are dealt with, we are done."

"That's fine by me." Hoffman charged over to the valve and tried to open the valve. This one was worse than the one indoors since it had also been out in the open in all weathers with no maintenance since the facility had been evacuated. With a furious roar, Hoffman brought the butt of his rifle swinging down on the wheel. It didn't do much, but it was enough to budge it slightly. In that small victory, Hoffman had managed to loosen the rusted threads. When he tried to turn it this time, it moved easily in his hands. After a few turns, he heard the sound of Imulsion flooding through the pipes. He turned back to the fight to see that it was finally nearly over. The Indie was out of ammo again, so Hoffman waded in and killed the last three of them before his Lancer gave an empty click. The magazine dropped out of the bottom and when his hand reached for a new clip, they found only empty air. He'd guessed he'd been running low when he went for the valve.

"_Victor, we saw the HVT coming your way. Report contact status_." Loomis said over the comm.

"Better late than never, Ezra." Hoffman replied, glancing over at the Indie. He had no sympathy for them, especially with the way the Gorasnis treated prisoners. But after the way they'd just protected each other, Hoffman couldn't just turn him over. "That's a negative on the high value target. He escaped and can't be accessed at this time. All valves have been activated. I'm just waiting on the Onyx Guard to do the honours with the button."

"_Dammit! Okay, we're proceeding to the control room_." Loomis terminated the connection and Hoffman turned back to the Indie, expecting to find a sidearm pressed against his head.

"You didn't have to lie for my sake." The Indie stared in disbelief.

"I'm not lying." Hoffman couldn't believe he was saying what he was. "After everything we've done for each other at this moment in time, I can't go capping your ass. This is the only time it'll ever happen, though. I'm giving you a pass here since we're both the only ones of our squads left. Don't misuse it."

"Then allow me to return the favour." The Indie lifted his finger to his own earpiece. "Commander Trescu, this is Major Paduk. Mission status: failure. My squad was decimated by the COG forces. If we want to stop those launches now, we'll have to strike the launch sites directly... Roger that. I'll leave that in your hands then. Returning to base." Paduk hung up and turned to face Hoffman. "I will not concede this war, COG. But you now have the time you need to protect your people in whatever way you choose."

"So, you're Major Paduk." Hoffman let out a sigh. "Well, it's helpful to put a face to the name. I'm Lieutenant Colonel Victor Hoffman. Now if you want to stay friends, let's never see each other again." Paduk smiled, his burn scars making his face look nightmarish.

"However this war ends, Colonel; I will speak to one of your men someday after its conclusion. I will use that very phrase with him when the time comes."

"I'm sure you will." Hoffman nodded. "Now, get going before the Onyx Guard find you." Paduk returned the nod and took off at a run, barrelling into the forest and out of sight. It struck Hoffman that the Gorasni soldiers were like the Pesang troops in many ways, except the Gorasnis still managed to be terrifyingly silent while running despite wearing armour even heavier than the Gears.

"Control, this is Hoffman. I've just intercepted actionable enemy intel that they've reported the mission a failure and decided to strike the launch sites for our satellites. We're about to get pushed hard by those grass-green sons of-"

"_Thanks, colonel. I'll tell Vega to prepare his squad and send you an evac bird_." Anya said before hanging up.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"_All callsigns, this is Control. We have intel that the enemy is planning to strike the launch sites. Protect them at all costs. Do not let the UIR destroy our satellites_!"

"Copy that, control. Gamma squad is mobile."

"_Affirmative, Vega. I'm sending the route to your 'Dill's computer_." The Armadillo APC thundered through the streets of Speyer. Vega checked his weapon over and made sure his armour was secure. The people of Speyer hadn't spent all that time building the rockets to get the satellites into space only for the UIR to destroy everything they'd worked for.

"Are the AA guns online?" Vega asked.

"_Affirmative_." Anya repeated. "_Sergeant Salvatore and Sergeant Mataki are already in position and ready to give them hell. Join them and see how you can help_."

"Copy that, Control. Gamma squad is en route." Vega hung up as the door to the APC opened. On reflex, Vega got ready to go prone under a hail of fire just as he had at Aspho Fields, but instead only had to shield his eyes from the sun. He and Gamma squad staggered out and positioned themselves next to the wall.

"You're early to the party, mate." Mataki said, lying prone where she was perched on top of a ruined wall.

"We're here to assist you." Vega told her.

"Well, I'd suggest following this Imulsion pipeline West to the station nearby." Salvatore offered. "We have intel they're trying to push hard over there to offline our supply and our facilities."

"Copy, we'll move up and retake that point." Vega nodded.

"Take the Mules." Mataki pointed to a set of bikes anchored to one of the refuelling stations. "There should be enough if you ride doubles."

"Got it." Vega nodded, motioning to the other gears in unison. "Guinness, with Cawthon. Higson, go with Hammond. Carmine, you're with me." They mounted the bikes and started the engines. Vega's bike was clearly the most beaten up and took a few tries to start, but he got there in the end. It wasn't long before they were speeding through the nearby gate and travelling parallel with the Imulsion pipeline.

The journey took about ten minutes before they arrived, but the welcome wasn't the warmest they'd ever experienced. Indie gunfire hailed their approach and the front tyre of Vega's Mule was the first thing to be hit. He and Carmine were thrown from it and managed to roll into cover as the bike was thrown over a chest-high road barrier and clattered to a stop seconds before exploding. The blast was larger than a grenade, but smaller than most other vehicles. While it didn't do a lot of damage, it was still enough to floor two Indies. Instantly, squad members came to their aid, dragging them back to safety.

"Open fire!" Vega ordered, springing up from cover. Lancer fire hailed from the COG line, taking out two Indies and forcing another to ground as a rifle round punched through his leg, making a mockery of his armour. One of the COG Mules carrying Higson and Hammond pulled up with Hammond at the controls while Higson spun up a grenade behind him. He let it fly expertly and landed it just off the side of a cluster of Indies. They dove for cover, but it was already too late. Two of them were completely fragged by the blast while another was left sobbing in agony and holding his own leg while the amputated stump gushed blood. Vega put him out of his misery with a Lancer round while Guinness and Cawthon arrived and dismounted. Together in unspoken communication, they scanned for more Indie troops around their position. Finding none, they pushed on towards Speyer and made it through the gates nearby.

"You know, I heard a rumour that Professor Fenix is looking to make a new version of the Lancer. Cawthon said as they walked towards the town's square. The launch site was situated just beyond the Centaur factory, which Vega had been to many times. "Yeah, it's going to have less recoil, better clip capacity and so on." Cawthon continued.

"You and your rumours!" Higson scoffed. "What, is it going to have a chainsaw mounted on it too?" Even Vega had to crack a smile behind his helmet as everyone else burst out laughing.

"You laugh all you want, but I'm telling you these things are going to be obsolete before too long."

"Oh boy, it's about time for that." Carmine said as he hefted what was left of his Lancer, Nina. Carmine was a much older Gear and his Lancer had been damaged in so many combat situations that he'd started gutting UIR weapons to do emergency battlefield repairs. Nowadays, what was formerly a COG Lancer was now so stuffed with the guts of Indie weapons that any Indie soldier could claim the gun as his own and have a legitimate argument.

"Yeah, assuming you're here long enough to see it, Will." Hammond sniped.

"Oh, I know I won't be." Carmine shrugged. "This is my last mission one way or another. As of the end of this, I'm officially retiring."

"Well, it's a pretty mellow last mission for you." Guinness said as they neared the factory. "I honestly thought we'd see more resistance by now." Suddenly, Carmine let out a pained cry and went down, a sniper round going straight through his knee. Instantly, everyone else whirled and opened fire, strafing the rooftop that the shot had come from. They saw a shower of blood and viscera as one Indie's head exploded while another rolled backwards and took up a position on the far side to retreat.

"Guinness, you idiot!" Vega snapped as he grabbed Carmine under the arms and dragged him backwards. The pain had overwhelmed the older Gear who'd passed out and was now just dead weight. Suddenly, there was a blast from behind them as someone fired a makeshift ordinance weapon that was powerful enough to blast the roof clean off the house and cause bloody chunks of Indie to rain down onto the street among the ashes and shards of roofing tiles.

"Get in here quick!" the factory worker yelled as the weapon fell apart in his hands and he moved to hold the door open for them. The other Gears formed up and helped move Carmine inside. The factory worker shut the door behind them as a first aider ran over with a medical kit to see what he could do.

"I can patch this up, but there's no way he's going to complete the mission!" he said as he knelt by Carmine. "The bullet went right through, but that knee joint is done. He'll need an evac."

"Control, we have Carmine down. Sniper round to the knee." Vega reported. "He's unable to continue but we have factory workers caring for wounded here. We're continuing on foot."

"_Copy that, Gamma_." Anya replied.

"That was a hell of a shot, son." Hammond said as he moved over to the factory worker. "What's your name?"

"I'm Damon." The young man pulled his goggles up and wiped his eyes before shaking Hammond's hand.

"Yeah, soon to be Private Baird!" one of the workers piped up.

"Not gonna happen, asshole!" Damon shot back. "My parents are forcing me to enlist as soon as I'm legal if I don't want to be disowned." He turned back to Hammond and explained, so as not to offend a group of armed Gears. "Little do they know, I'm going to enlist as an engineer. I prefer machines to people."

"Well, we'll be glad to have you either way." Vega said, walking over. "What was that gun you were using?"

"That was a Centaur firing mechanism and tube connected to a makeshift trigger." Damon explained. "I wish I'd had time to make one for each of you, but I didn't. Since the blast is so intense, you can only use it once anyway. Most of the structural support was missing so it was no good after a single use."

"Well, it got the job done." Vega grinned, even though Damon couldn't see it.

"Thanks, I set up a better turret at the launch site too." Damon said. "It's basically the top turret of a Centaur put on its side, attached to a seat and then you've got the control panel with the trigger mechanism. It's mainly an AA turret since I figured that's how they're going to try anything if they do at all."

"Damn, you're a smart kid." Higson nodded approvingly. "Stay here and try not to die. We need more brains like yours in this world."

"Thanks." Damon nodded. "You heard him, people. You've got to treat me like I'm made of glass now. No need to thank me. Please clap."

"Okay, let's move out!" Vega ordered.

"I'll show you the back door that leads onto the launch site." One of the workers stepped out of the crowd. With the Gears in tow, he led them through the factory and up onto the walkways. It wasn't long before they arrived at the back door and he used his employee access to open it for them. They headed out to the back gate through the small alleyway and shoved it open to find a launch platform set up and workers hurrying around making final checks. One of the workers saw them out of the corner of his eye and pulled a snub pistol from his hip, firing off a round in their direction.

"Cease fire, dipshit!" Vega yelled. The worker instantly put his gun away.

"Sorry. I thought you were Indies." His expression was sheepish, but it was clear he was jumpy. Vega understood. They'd been working towards this moment for eighty years. If the Indies destroyed the rocket and its payload, they could be fighting for another eighty and Sera wouldn't see peace in Vega's lifetime.

"If the Indies were here already, you'd be dead by now." Vega muttered. "How long until we're ready to launch?"

"We're just making the final preparations now."

"_Gamma, I'm seeing incoming hostile air traffic on our radar_." Anya's voice was an unwelcome intrusion.

"Well, they couldn't have timed that any worse." Vega looked around, spotting the turret that Damon had made and raced over to it. "Take defensive positions!"

"We have plenty of spare ordinance and ammo if you need it." One of the technicians had raced back and was wheeling a cart out carrying a mortar, a Buzzkill rock cutting saw and a stack of ammo crates. "It's literally what we could scrape together."

"It's more than enough. Thank you." Hammond nodded as he grabbed the Buzzkill. "Can I borrow that ladder there?" One of the scientists passed it over and he climbed up to the top of it carrying the heavy weapon. From there, he was at the perfect angle to fire upwards at enemy aircraft. Vega had to admire the bravery. That was all the time they had. Suddenly, the UIR airships appeared out of nowhere. Two Ospreys and some Petrels equipped with heavy guns. Clearly this was an all-out mission. Do or die.

As soon as they were in range, Vega opened up. The Centaur turret fired off a round that practically deafened him in his left ear and took out a Petrel. The rest of the aircraft broke formation so as not to be such easy targets, but there was little manoeuvring room since they were all after the rocket. They Hammond fired the Buzzkill on an angle that was a wild guess. It proved to be a lucky one as the blade travelled far enough that it was sucked into the side engine of an Osprey which caused a cascade rupture throughout the wing. Flames enveloped the aircraft which dropped like a rock on the spot as Vega fired again, destroying another Petrel.

That was where their luck ended. The UIR craft were so close by this point that Gamma squad could open up with their Lancers, but it also meant that each craft could open up with their heavy chainguns. Guinness grabbed the mortar and fired one round off, but completely missed. He was cut down where he stood as the Indies let loose. Hammond was also turned into red paste by Indie gunfire as he tried to reload the Buzzkill. All his other shots had missed and so he'd been fumbling with the new blade canister while trying to hold his balance. The Buzzkill hit the ground with a clang as technicians ducked and ran for cover. As Higson opened fire, the ventral cannon on the remaining Osprey opened up, nailing him in one shot. His final Lancer rounds burst into the cockpit of a Petrel, causing the pilot to bank sharply and have to look for a new approach angle.

"I've got you, sir!" Cawthon yelled, running over as Vega managed to nail two more Petrels.

"Control, we need air support down here! We need to deploy now! Repeat: deploy now! We're taking too many casualties!"

"_Copy that, Vega. Launch in T-minus one minute. Be advised: clear the blast radius_!"

"Negative, control." Vega said, opening fire again and grazing the wing of the last Osprey. "If this Osprey makes its bombing run, it's all over."

"Sir, we can hold it here!" Cawthon said, grabbing the mortar and reloading it. His shot went wide, but caused the Petrels to scatter again. From the tone of their flying, Vega guessed that they were getting frustrated at how well they were holding the position. He fired again, nailing another one and taking the total down to two Petrels and the Osprey.

"I guess this is the dead man's minute; isn't it, Cawthon?" Vega looked round just as a Petrel opened fire and left a crater where Cawthon once was.

"_Launch in T-minus thirty seconds_!" Anya announced. Suddenly, a much more welcome sound cut in. The whirring of Raven blades lit the air up as two birds swooped in for air support.

"_KR-51 engaging_!"

"_KR-80 engaging_!" The second voice was definitely Gill Gettner. The Indies were in trouble now. Sure enough, a volley of gunfire and missiles struck the Osprey sending it barrelling downwards. Vega fired again at a Petrel, missing but forcing it closer to the Ravens who took it from there. They engaged fearlessly and as the countdown for the final ten seconds began, Vega realised that while he was here, he might as well enjoy the view.


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

**Author's Note: Okay, so I know I haven't updated this in a while. I've actually been quite ill over the last week, but I'm feeling okay now, so here's the final chapter and the epilogue. Thank you for sticking with me through this story. I hope there'll be a lot more to come soon.**

The room was eerily quiet as Hoffman and Dalyell walked in. Commander Miran Trescu and Major Garron Paduk sat on the other end of the table. Paduk saw Hoffman but refused to acknowledge him, whether out of pride or fear of letting something slip about the events at the Lethia Imulsion Facility slip Hoffman neither knew nor cared. Dalyell sat at the table and addressed Trescu directly.

"Well Commander, it seems that this is finally the end." Dalyell pulled out a sheaf of paper and slid it across the desk. "This peace treaty details a reparation program that integrates the UIR and COG under one banner. Every nation of the UIR will be permitted to maintain economy and sustain industry, but will not be allowed to re-arm. Your people will divulge all weapons research and our technicians will ensure nothing stays secret. We will play a role in guiding your countries forward just as we have with ours. You will also release all POWs to us, but that goes without saying. In return, we'll release all UIR POWs back into your care."

"And if I refuse to sign?" Trescu glared across the table at him.

"If I even suspected that, I'd have my Lieutenant Colonel here put you down on the spot on suspicion of faking a surrender." Dalyell shrugged.

"You mean like your Lieutenant Colonel did at Anvil Gate?" Trescu's glare switched targets.

"But I know you're not." Dalyell let the jab slide. "Our Hammer of Dawn technology has not only decimated your armies but your land as well. You need our help to feed your people and you won't get it without a signature. But then you already knew that. I mean, how couldn't you?"

"What say you, Major?" Trescu asked, turning to Paduk.

"I'm not going to sit here and sing the praises of politics, Commander." Paduk shrugged. "I'm not going to sit here and say I respect the COG anymore than I did yesterday or that I'm even close to liking the fact we have to make a deal with them. But I _am_ going to say that we knew this would happen if they launched their Hammer of Dawn satellites and we still failed to stop them. We knew the outcome of this meeting and that we now need them to offer us a peace deal, but I will say that this is a better one than I was expecting to get."

"I agree." Trescu nodded. Reluctantly, he turned to Dalyell who was holding out a pen. "Don't push it, Chairman!" he scoffed and pulled out a pen of his own. He signed the dotted line and shoved the papers back in Dalyell's direction before standing up. Dalyell held his hand out to shake. In response, Paduk and Trescu saluted stiffly and went to leave. Suddenly, Hoffman found himself moving as if on autopilot.

"Major Paduk, would you stay a moment?" Paduk and Trescu stopped. "You're an amazing soldier and I'm willing to bet that's all you've ever known." Hoffman said, speaking fast. "I'm willing to bet you'd find adjustment to civilian life hard in the wake of Gorasnaya's disarmament, so I'm going to offer an alternative."

"Speak." An intrigued look crossed Paduk's face.

"I'm looking to create a scheme where willing UIR troops can be drafted in to serve in the COG army." Hoffman offered. "You'll be given our uniform, be able to become a Private in the COG while still keeping your rank as Major among the UIR and it'll also help Gorasnaya settle into the peace deal." Paduk regarded him for a second, seeming almost impressed that Hoffman dare make such an offer.

"You certainly make a generous offer." Paduk nodded. "I don't see it working." Paduk's refusal didn't surprise Hoffman, but his reasoning did.

"I've been prepared for a variety of refusals to that offer." Hoffman admitted. "That's not one of them."

"It was one half of Sera against the other." Paduk said like it was the most obvious thing ever. "Who's left to fight? Unless something literally comes up through the floor, we have no reason for anyone to have a military anymore. You might as well disarm yourselves too, because if we can't re-arm then you have no need for a military. You've done it. You've actually attained world peace. Congratulations, Victor Hoffman. Pat yourself on the back if you can reach it wearing that metal door of an armour vest, you've managed to make life boring."

"I wouldn't say that." Hoffman shrugged. "I'm quite looking forward to some downtime with the wife."

"I never had the time for them." Paduk shrugged. "But maybe life will find its own pace for me."

"I'm sure it will." Hoffman said before saluting and turning to leave the room. The staff car he so hated was waiting outside for him. Normally he wouldn't take it, but he knew it would be his only way to make his pit stop on the way home and get back to Margaret before dark.

A short car ride later, Hoffman walked up the slope to the cemetery and headed to the newer headstones. He knew where the stone he wanted was. He'd approved the new layout plans himself. Sure enough, he found the headstone marked Samuel Vega and knelt by it. Vega's remains had been moved back to his home town of Landown, but the headstone here stood as a memorial to yet another soldier lost to war.

"Well, old friend..." Hoffman began, not sure what to say. "You finally did it. That last effort from you and yours won it all for us. It didn't take the Indies long to fall. They lasted a week and a half though, hard bastards. Our victory... Your victory was so close, you of all people deserved to see it. Your body, your armour were turned to glass by the weapon we then used to glass the Indies. Almost doesn't seem right. But your courage won't fade. You passed that to us, and we'll use it to rebuild." With that, Hoffman pulled out his combat knife and used the blade to scrape the gravel away, just as he'd seen Dom and Marcus do with Carlos' grave. Instead of an Embry Star though, he pulled out an older medal he'd got for his performance at Anvil Gate, the Nassar Cross. He placed it in the trench he'd dug before replacing the gravel and then stood up. Turning to walk back to the staff car, he made a solemn promise to himself and every fallen man and woman of the Pendulum Wars. He didn't know what lay in store for Sera, but he vowed that he would do everything in his power to see it prosper from here on out.

End!


End file.
